


fake it til you make it

by sinningpumpkin



Series: from eden [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Communication, Cunnilingus, F/F, Faking Orgasms, Fluff and Smut, Lingerie, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinningpumpkin/pseuds/sinningpumpkin
Summary: See, the real problem is that Annette is perfect. She’s beautiful and soft and petite, but strong and protective when she needs to be. She looks like the perfect omega and smells like one too. She can comfort Felix during his worst pre-heats and doesn’t flinch before scolding Dimitri or Sylvain for being idiot alphas. Ingrid is so achingly in love with her it scares her. It’s only been six months and at any moment, it feels like the switch could flip where Annette realizes she needs someone else, someone better.Ingrid really shouldn’t have faked it for this long.~Or, Ingrid can't orgasm with a partner and Annette wants to make her girlfriend feel good. They figure it out.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Series: from eden [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863778
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	fake it til you make it

“You can stop pretending, you know.”

It takes Ingrid a moment to realize what Annette has said. Then she sputters. “What? I-I’m not… pretending!” Shame and embarrassment curl inside her and Annette pulls away entirely. Ingrid’s cunt clenches, wet only from the half empty bottle of lube next to her thigh, and she throws an arm over her face when she realizes she’s been caught.

She and Annette have been together for almost six months. They’ve fucked three times, well four now, and everytime Ingrid fakes her orgasms.

She likes it. She really does like being close to Annette and making her feel good. But the whole… orgasm part? That wasn’t really in the cards for her.

At this point, she closes her legs and expects Annette to get out of bed. Ingrid’s never managed to finish with a partner before--no matter how diligent they were--and usually it ends the relationship when they find out. Sure, they’ll make a few attempts to be accommodating, but once they realize that Ingrid really can’t finish, they fall away from her.

She doesn’t really blame them. Few people want to be with a beta. Much less a defective one.

A hand smooths against her jaw. “Sorry, I had to wipe my hands,” Annette says. Her voice is soft. She isn’t angry, yet. “Can I clean you up too?”

Ingrid nods and a soft cloth strokes across her cunt and thighs, wiping away the sticky lube. Annette kisses the inside of her knee and then tosses the cumrag somewhere. And she still hasn’t left the bed. 

Ingrid pulls her arm away from her face, and finds Annette sitting back on her knees, watching her intently. The urge to cover herself wells up again, but then Annette smiles, gentle and adoring and Ingrid would do anything for her.

See, the real problem is that Annette is perfect. She’s beautiful and soft and petite, but strong and protective when she needs to be. She looks like the perfect omega and smells like one too. She can comfort Felix during his worst pre-heats and doesn’t flinch before scolding Dimitri or Sylvain for being idiot alphas. Ingrid is so achingly in love with her it scares her. It’s only been six months and at any moment, it feels like the switch could flip where Annette realizes she needs someone else, someone better.

Ingrid really shouldn’t have faked it for this long. 

“Can we talk about it?” Annette asks, as careful and gentle as she always is.

Ingrid desperately wants to kiss her. Instead, she says, “How long have you known?”

Annette doesn’t respond immediately and when Ingrid looks to her, finding her with her teeth in her bottom lip and a pinch to her brow she groans. An apologetic smile flits across Annette’s face. “Since the first time… I’m sorry, I should’ve mentioned something sooner but, I really didn’t want to push you.”

Ingrid frowns. “Don’t apologize, it’s my fault.”

Annette sighs at that and scoots a little closer to Ingrid. They’re both naked and it’s only thanks to the dim room that Ingrid doesn’t immediately jump her bones. Annette reaches out and laces their fingers together, carefully guiding Ingrid’s first finger away from digging at the skin of her thumb. “I don’t want to place blame. I just want to make you feel good.”

Ingrid’s heart clenches in her chest. The vulnerability hurts more than anything, but she squeezes Annette’s hand and forces it out. “I’ve never been able to cum with a partner,” she mumbles. Once it's out, it feels like the dam has broken. “I’m just so much more comfortable topping and it makes me so nervous--I mean, you’re so amazing and you’re always wet and you smell so good and I’m just… god I don’t want to disappoint you,” Ingrid says all at once. It’s a lot more than she meant to say and when her eyes dart to Annette, she finds that same shock and worry she’d seen on every other partner’s face.

Annette speaks before she can take any of it back. “Oh my god, do you not want to get off when we fuck? Have I just been touching you when you don’t want it? Oh my god, Ingrid! You don’t have to do that, I don’t care, if it doesn’t make you feel good--”

“No! No, Annie,” Ingrid cuts her off and sits up. “That’s the problem. I like it when you touch me. And you make me feel good. But I can never… get there, I guess.” They stare at each other for a long moment as several emotions roll through Annette.

Her face sets into the determined look she always gets before she has to ask for her food to be remade. “So. You want to get off with me, but you can’t get there. And you’ve tried with others, but you also can’t. But you masturbate?” Ingrid blushes as she nods. Annette squeezes her hand a little tighter and bounces on her haunches, that determined look splitting into a grin. “Well! Easy fix then, you jerk off for me and I’ll watch what you do and then do it to you,” she says. Ingrid can smell her eagerness and feels her body react, even if she doesn’t slick like Annette does.

“I… I don’t know,” she mumbles. She feels guilty bursting Annette’s bubble, especially after she’s been so kind. “I don’t think I’ll be able to if… I’m getting watched, you know?”

This time, the determined set of Annette’s face is the one she wears when she’s about to scold Felix for being mean to himself. And Ingrid knows she’s in for it. “Ingrid…”

Just her name is enough to have her shoulders curling, a frown bending the line of her mouth. Annette gathers her up into a tight embrace, Ingrid’s cheek pressed into her soft skin. “Baby,” she whispers, fingers tangling in Ingrid’s hair. “You do know how sexy you are, right?”

Ingrid butts her head against Annette’s collarbone and shrugs.

“Well, that’s your problem,” Annette says, with less eagerness and more tender adoration. “How are you supposed to bare yourself to me and be comfortable enough to get off, while not feeling good about yourself?”

Ingrid feels her defenses rising, even while knowing Annette is right.

“I’m not gonna rush you, or ask anything special of you. But I’m happy to show you how fucking hot you are, whether you’re on top of me or I’m taking care of you.”

And just like that, Annette has all her inchoate feelings pinned down on the examination table. The breath rushes out of Ingrid and stupidly, tears well in her eyes. They don’t pull apart, but somehow, Annette knows anyway. She lays them both out on the bed, her soft, petite body like a warm weighted blanket on top of Ingrid. “How do you know me so well?” She sniffles, scrubbing at her stubbornly wet eyes.

Annette shrugs. “I feel like that too.” She says it so easily. “Since I’m meant to… receive, sometimes I never feel good enough taking care of you. And I guess, you feel the same. But in reverse.”

Ingrid twists and kisses her cheek. They’re still naked and now with everything out in the open, they could try to pick up where they left off. Except, Ingrid can’t seem to stop silently crying and all she really wants to do is cuddle. “Can we just…?”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but Annette knows anyway. She pulls the blankets up over them and snuggles in against Ingrid’s neck. “Course baby.”

Ingrid kisses the top of her head and finally lets herself rest.

~

Annette takes her shopping the next morning. Felix ends up tagging along too, while the rest of their pack lounges around in Dimitri’s apartment. Ingrid isn’t really sure what they’re supposed to be shopping for, until her arm is hooked with Annette’s and the slim omega drags her into a lingerie store. “Oh my god,” she and Felix say in unison. She’s glad that Felix is at least as shocked as she is.

“Fe, we have to find something for Ingrid because--”

“Do not finish that fucking sentence,” Felix hisses. Ingrid’s ears burn with red but Annette’s grip is too tight to pull away from. “Just because we’re packmates doesn’t mean I want to know every detail of your sex life.”

A devilish smirk pulls across Annette’s face. “Oh? Could have fooled me with all the times you asked for my advice on how to take alpha knot like a--” Felix lunges for her and Ingrid ducks away as the two omegas start chasing each other through the store.

Without her chaperones, Ingrid wanders around the store. It’s low lit and a little sleazy, but surprisingly inclusive. Each set of lingerie she sees has a range of sizes and even modified versions suited for alpha or omega body types. But, everything she comes across is way too flashy or revealing for her tastes. She knows she’s supposed to feel sexy wearing sheer lace and corsetry, but she’s pretty sure it would just make her clam up. And if they’re here to solve her and Annette’s bed room problems, that certainly won’t help.

“Excuse me?”

Ingrid jumps even though the voice to her left is soft. She turns and finds a smiling sales representative next to her with a tape measure hanging around her neck. “Sorry to startle you! My name’s Dorothea. Can I help you find anything?”

Ingrid pulls her hand away from where she’d been absentmindedly stroking a pair of backless panties. “Uh, well…” She trails off and cringes at her own awkwardness. The girl--Dorothea--is gorgeous. Her scent is calming and mild, helping to set Ingrid at ease as she scratches the back of her neck. “I’ve never really… shopped for stuff like this before.”

Dorothea smiles. “No problem. Having trouble figuring out what you’d like?” Ingrid nods. “Okay, well, I don’t think this is the section for you. Follow me?” She spins on her heel and Ingrid has no choice but to follow. They leave the dark section of lace and mesh, pass through a room filled with pink and feather boas, and end up somewhere that looks more like sleepwear and less like lingerie.

Dorothea guides her over to the corner of the room to a small section. “So. Would you like something easy to take off or something with easy access?”

Ingrid chokes on her tongue instead of responding and Dorothea laughs. “Okay, maybe an example would be better.” She tugs open a few drawers and lays out two different sets. “This one,” she points to a red and black one piece lined with lace and sheer panels of fabric, “is easy to get into, but it’ll take a second to get off in the heat of the moment.” Her hand falls to the crotch and shows a slit in the fabric. “So, this helps to not ruin the sexiness.”

On instinct, Ingrid scrunches her nose. It’s not like Annette’s just gonna pull her lingerie apart and stick something inside her. 

Dorothea snorts. “Alright, so that’s not your favorite then.” She stashes the one piece back in the drawers and turns her focus to the other set. This one looks more like sleepwear, with a thin teal t-shirt top and a pair of high waisted underwear that match. “This is easy to pull off when you get down to it, but teasing enough to get you both hot and bothered.”

Ingrid purses her lips. “Isn’t it… too conservative?”

“Well, you don’t seem like the type to be comfortable prancing around with your nipples out,” Dorothea says, shocking a laugh out of Ingrid. “And if you’re worried about it not being sexy enough, trust me, a thin t-shirt with no bra is hotter than a corset.”

Ingrid’s blushing when she finally says, “Alright, I’ll take it.”

~

After a few hours of hanging out at Dimitri’s apartment, Ingrid finds herself shoved into the bathroom with the new outfit. Her lips are still tingling from where Annette had kissed her breathless, skin sticky with her fresh scent. Ingrid rolls her neck and finally pulls the clothes out of the bag.

Annette had told her to take her time, but it only takes a minute to undress and then slip the new clothing on. She figures that Annette means that she’s supposed to pamper herself, but she’s never been very good at that anyway. She at least undoes the braid in her hair, tousling her waves where they hang down to her shoulders.

The lingerie fits, butthat’s about all she has to say about it. She scrutinizes herself in the mirror, brow furrowed and lips pursed. She looks like she always does. Normal. Unremarkable. Maybe this isn’t the best way to fix her whole faking orgasms thing.

“Might as well get it over with,” she mutters to herself, raking her fingers through her hair once more before tugging the bathroom door open. “I’m not sure… well, you know,” she says as she comes into their bedroom.

After a quick glance at Annette she finds it impossible to make eye contact with her. She stares at the floor instead, picking at her cuticles as her nerves mount. Then, the thick smell of Annette’s arousal hits her. Her knees almost buckle, nipples going tight under the soft shirt as she stumbles a half step forward. “Oh,” she murmurs, head lifting to meet Annette’s gaze.

Her eyes are wide, pupils dilated and cheeks flushed. Ingrid’s seen this look on her before. Usually when Ingrid rolls a vibrator on the insides of her thighs before pressing it against her cunt, or when she flips Annette onto her belly and slides her strap back inside of her. “Oh my god,” Annette says. Her voice is rough and Ingrid’s heartbeat pounds in her ears, brain scrambled with the fact that Annette could look so fucking turned on just from seeing Ingrid dressed like this. “Come here, please,” she whines, making grabby hands at Ingrid until she steps between Annette’s legs.

As soon as she’s within arms reach, Annette’s hands are all over her. Ingrid pitches forward with a gasp, catching herself on Annette’s shoulders. “You’re so fucking hot, baby, oh, oh my god,” Annette babbles, pressing her face against Ingrid’s belly as she reaches down and grabs her ass. Ingrid’s cheeks go hot, but for once, she doesn’t silently deny the praise.

She feels hot. She hadn’t when looking at herself in the mirror, but now, smelling how much Annette wants her makes her lightheaded with desire.

Annette’s hands slide up her spine, lips dragging down over her exposed navel in sweet kisses. Ingrid’s thighs squeeze together and she laces her fingers through Annette’s coppery hair. She whines, tilting her head back into the touch as her hands keep exploring Ingrid. “What do you want? I’ll give you anything. Anything and everything, baby girl--fuck,” Annette groans. Her eyes dart between the soft swell of Ingrid’s chest and her brilliantly red blush. Ingrid curls a lock of her hair around her finger and tugs, grinning when a bright bloom of slick scent fills their room. “Just wanna make you cum, sweetheart, please.”

Ingrid chews on the inside of her cheek. Annette’s hands keep roving over her, but she doesn’t try to drag her down into bed and Ingrid realizes she wants a real answer. Ingrid doesn’t have one. Instead, she pushes Annette down onto the mattress and straddles her. Their mouths slot together before Annette has a chance to complain or demand for Ingrid to use her words. 

Annette indulges her. She scores Ingrid’s bottom lip with her teeth and sucks on her tongue while shoving her hands up her shirt to grab her tits. Soon, she’s gasping, arousal pulsing in her belly as Annette thumbs at her nipples.

Annette’s hips twist and Ingrid is flung onto her back, gasping out a shocked little noise before Annette slots them back together. Their kisses only get messier, cunts pressed together in sloppy sweet grinds. Annette pulls away and freezes her hips. Ingrid whines at her, twisting her face into her shoulder as she bucks against her. “Darling,” Annette whispers. Ingrid melts for her, panting into the sheets as Annette drags her mouth over her throat. “What do you want?”

The words surge against Ingrid’s teeth. Slutty, desperate demands that she barely tamps down on. Annette seems to sense her eagerness and shoves her shirt up over her tits. She leans down and bites little purpling marks all over her chest, licking at her nipples until they’re wet little peaks. It’s almost enough for Ingrid to shatter for her, to finally let go of that shame and pride that keeps her tied down. But not quite.

“Less clothes,” is what she says instead.

Annette bites her nipple, but still sits up and pulls her shirt over her head. “Alright, fine. But what do you want, baby? How can I make you feel good?” Annette slides back against her, their bare skin pressed together, warm and soft.

Frustration burns up her throat. She presses her lips into a thin line, unable to be softened even when Annette cups her cheeks and slides her thumbs beneath her eyes. “I don’t know,” she finally says. “I want you to do… everything to me. But, I don’t know how to feel good.” She closes her eyes, and leans into Annette’s gentle touch on her face. She feels good, but she always feels good when Annette touches her like this. And then there’s a hand or a mouth between her legs and she freezes, riding a wave she can never quite crest over.

Annette kisses her once more, chaste and sweet and comforting. “Okay, baby,” Annette murmurs against her mouth. “Then I’m gonna touch you all over. And when something feels good, you tell me, okay?”

Ingrid purses her lips and nods, trying to ignore the certainty in the back of her mind that none of it will feel good enough and this will all have been for nothing.

Annette kisses her again. Then her hands slide into Ingrid’s hair. There are some things she already knows, like how Ingrid wants to get her hair pulled and her wrists held down. But then she thinks about every time she faked it and realizes that maybe Annette doesn’t know any of that at all.

Her slim fingers comb through Ingrid’s hair, stroking instead of pulling. It takes a long, uncomfortable moment of her mouth drying out and her heart racing, before she manages to say, “Pull it.” Annette fists her hand in Ingrid’s hair, tugging from the root until a choked noise is forced out of Ingrid.

“Baby girl, perfect that’s just what I want,” Annette mumbles, tugging Ingrid’s hair again until she whimpers and pushes herself up against Annette. “Such a good girl.” The praise shoots through her and she shivers.

Annette’s hands tickle across her eyelids and the bridge of her nose before coming to rest on her shoulders. Her mouth follows that path, kissing along her jaw and dragging across her neck. “There, there,” Ingrid whispers as Annette’s mouth hovers over one of her scent glands. They aren’t as pronounced as Annette’s, but they’re sensitive all the same. She drags her mouth over it, followed by her tongue and teeth. And Ingrid is actually getting  _ wet _ .

“You’re so good for me, Ingrid,” Annette murmurs, tonguing at her scent gland and then dragging her hands down over her chest. The tips of her fingers tickle at her collarbones and then she cups Ingrid’s tits in her palms. They aren’t especially sensitive. At least, she thinks as much until Annette’s fingers pinch her nipples and Ingrid’s half sure she’s just been ejected out of her body. The pleasure rocks through her, fingers knotting into the sheets. And then Annette’s mouth is on her. Hot and wet with the perfect scrape of teeth that has her moaning and whining like her clit is being rubbed. “Perfect, my perfect girl, god--fuck,” Annette mumbles.

Ingrid rubs her thighs together and actually feels the slick slide of her wetness between them. “I--more, Annie, please,” she gasps out, voice going all wobbly around the edges when Annette sucks on one of her nipples.

In answer, her hands stroke down over Ingrid’s waist and hips but don’t venture any further than that. “Be patient, rushing isn’t going to help get you off any faster, baby,” she says. Her tongue swirls around Ingrid’s areola and any argument she might’ve had evaporates. 

Annette does eventually drift lower. She takes her sweet, sweet time, tonguing and biting at all of Ingrid’s sweet spots until she’s certain that she’ll be molted with wine colored bruises in the morning. Her fingers hook into the top of Ingrid’s thong and she squirms. “You look so good in this.” Annette’s teeth scrape against her navel as her hands stroke the insides of Ingrid’s thighs.

A shivery sort of pleasure twists through her and she shuffles her legs a bit farther apart. “Take it off,  _ please _ ,” she groans.

Annette grins at her, pink cheeked and pleased. “There’s a good girl. Lift your hips.”

Ingrid bites her lip and does as she’s told, letting Annette tug off her panties before slotting back between her legs. Annette starts kissing the insides of her thighs, leaving matching purpling marks whenever Ingrid whines for them. “I wanna taste you and make you cum,” Annette murmurs. Her mouth is close enough to Ingrid’s cunt for her to feel the hot wash of her breath.

She nods jerkily and throws an arm back over her heated face. “Please, I--me too,” she mumbles.

Annette giggles and leans forward, pressing her mouth against Ingrid’s clit. It feels so good. So much better than any other time she held herself wound tight and searching for an orgasm that would never hit. She melts into the mattress and bites the crook of her elbow to silence herself. “Is that good?” Annette asks. Her tongue dips back between Ingrid’s labia and she trembles. “Do you like it inside?”

Ingrid whines. “Dunno, I--fuck, Annie--maybe just, try?”

Annette hums and licks into Ingrid’s hole. She cries out, not yet ready to muffle that sharp moan that peaks from her chest. Annette fucks her open with long strokes of her tongue before pulling back to kiss and suck at her clit. “More, more, more,” Ingrid says. Her voice is going thin, body winding tight as she grasps for the pleasure that Annette is treating her to.

“Don’t fight for it, baby.” Annette rubs her cheek against Ingrid’s thigh and slides a single finger inside of her. “Just let it happen. We have all night.”

And her voice is so genuine, so sweet and gentle and Ingrid trusts her so absolutely. The feeling breaks open in her chest, overwhelming and bright as Annette licks her clit again--and suddenly she’s cumming. It takes her by surprise, mostly because it's not the knock down drag out fight she’s so used to, but a sweet crest of pleasure that builds and breaks. She cums all over Annette’s face, wet and trembly until her whines are edged with pain and Annette pulls away.

She crawls up the length of Ingrid’s body and she pulls Annette into a kiss without thought to her messy skin. Ingrid kisses her breathless, that bright scary emotion still burning in her chest when Annette pulls away and smiles down at her. “Thank you,” is the first thing Ingrid can think to say.

“Oh, baby,” Annette whispers. “You’re so wonderful.”

And Ingrid knows that she should probably return the favor, but she’s loopy with post orgasm exhaustion, and Annette doesn’t even ask before stripping completely and pulling the blankets over them both. They lay together, surrounded by the smell of Ingrid’s satisfaction and Annette’s lingering lust. “Next time, we can try for two,” Annette mumbles, sounding already half asleep.

And Ingrid thinks that bright feeling in her chest might be something like love. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope u liked it!


End file.
